Return of the Hunters (The DeathSpeaker Codex Book 4) (24 page)

Sadie gasped suddenly, and then clapped a hand over her mouth like she hadn’t meant to let that out. Her eyes grew impossibly wide. “Taeral,” she whispered. “Look at them. I mean…really look.”

He did. His furrowed brow smoothed out slowly. “Were there not six of you?” he said in a much kinder, gentle tone. “Where are the youngest two?”

Denei’s gasping sob was more than enough of an answer.

Taeral shrank back, horrified. “I am so sorry,” he said. “I’d no idea—”

I stopped him with a hand on his arm. “Rex and Senobia are going to stay here for a while,” I said, hoping it would help them to remember that they weren’t gone. Not really. “But they’ll stop by to check in from time to time.”

Taeral swallowed hard and gave a stiff nod.

“Listen, I think the best thing for everyone right now is to just get home.” I looked at Daoin, and grinned. We wouldn’t have to take the goddamned train after all. “Hey, Dad,” I said. “Can we have a ride home?”

Daoin blinked slowly. “I do not understand. Is that…humor?”

“I guess there’s still some of the old you in there, after all,” I said with a laugh. “Don’t worry. I’ll explain when you’re older.”

He cracked a smile. “Now, that is humor,” he said. “And yes. I will absolutely give everyone a ride home.

It was the best sentence I’d heard all day.

C
HAPTER 43

M
anhattan had four inches of snow on the ground, and more coming down. This kind of weather usually made me cranky, just because I’d eventually have to drive in it—but right now, I would’ve happily stripped naked and rolled in the stuff.

I was home.

The Duchenes and Reun had gone straight up to the fourth floor. No one tried to stop them. I’d only made it as far as the back room off the lobby and decided that was far enough for now. My bed was great and all, but this couch was a good two hundred steps closer.

Sadie broke off for her bathroom and a quick shower, but Daoin and Taeral had followed me in and taken seats on the easy chairs at either end of the couch. I was too exhausted to tell them that I was too exhausted to talk. I figured they’d eventually get the point when I fell asleep mid-sentence.

“Well,” Daoin said. “Now that you are both here, I’ve something to tell you.”

Taeral gave him a wary look. “Never in my life has it been good news when you’ve said that.”

Great. I really could’ve gone a long time without hearing more bad news.

“It is neither good news, nor bad news,” Daoin leaned forward and folded his hands, resting his arms on his thighs. “I must return to Arcadia,” he said. “Not immediately. I am…how do humans phrase it? Home for the holidays. But I cannot stay.”

Damn. I figured Taeral would be extremely upset—he’d gone decades thinking his father was dead, and then that he’d lost his mind forever, and
then
that the Unseelie Queen had restored Daoin’s memories, just so he’d know that she was the one who killed him. After all that, Daoin decided not to come back with us. And now he wasn’t even staying.

But Taeral just seemed resigned. “What is it this time, Father?” he said in a weary voice. “More training? A woman? Perhaps it’s both.”

For some reason, the statement didn’t piss Daoin off—and that made me feel awful for Taeral. He was obviously used to his father having more important things to do. “I am truly sorry. I meant to stay,” Daoin said. “But this is much greater than training or women.”

Taeral raised an eyebrow. “Is it, now.”

“Aye. I plan to help the new Seelie King unite the realms.”

“Father…” Taeral shivered briefly. “That is not possible. Moirenha would never—”

“She has already met with him twice. Negotiations are underway.” He smiled proudly. “It seems a few brave sons of mine and their princely friend have softened her cold heart a bit. Or at the least, her tolerance for violent actions against her royal person,” he said. “Braelan intends to lift the ban against relations between Seelie and Unseelie. They’ll no longer face death, simply for falling in love.”

Even I had to smile at that. I didn’t know Braelan very well, but I knew his brothers. And if he was anything like them, he’d find a way to push this through.

“The process will be long and involved, just as any matter involving the Courts. But I will return here to visit often,” Daoin said. “Oh, yes…and I have gifts for you both.”

He took something out of his pocket, then stood and walked over to Taeral. “This is yours now,” he said.

What he handed him was a pendant. Like the moonstone, only the gem was a deep, glistening crystal black.

“The lodestone,” Taeral said, half-rising from his chair. “Father, are you certain…?”

“I am. You’ve wielded it far better than I ever could, and you are more than worthy to be its keeper.”

Taeral slipped the pendant around his neck with something like reverence. “Thank you, Father.” He bowed his head. “I’ll not let you down.”

“My son…you never have.”

Daoin embraced him, and I looked away to give them a little privacy. I knew why Taeral said what he had. He’d held himself responsible for Daoin being captured and held by Milus Dei, for a little over a quarter of a century—even though it wasn’t even remotely his fault.

Whatever that stone was, Daoin had obviously absolved him with it.

“Gideon. I’ve something for you, as well.”

I pushed myself into a more-or-less seated position. “Thanks, but you don’t have to give me anything,” I said. “I’m good.”

“Actually, I do. Because this still belongs to you.” He reached into a different pocket.

And pulled out the moonstone.

“These stones are special,” Daoin said. “The lodestone, the firestone, and the master stone. In a way, they are sentient—they choose their bearers. The firestone works best with me. The lodestone has chosen Taeral.” He held the pendant out to me. “And the master stone has chosen you.”

I almost didn’t take it. But something in me was overjoyed at the sight of the stone, and I wasn’t sure I could stop myself if I tried. I accepted the pendant and slipped it around my neck.

It glowed softly, as if it was saying hello.

“Thank you,” I said with an unexpected catch in my voice. “I’m…yeah. Thank you.”

“You are most welcome,” Daoin said.

I was surprised that I was actually enjoying this—hanging out with my family, my real, related-to-me family. But all good things had to come to an end, at least temporarily. I could barely keep my eyes open. “So, er…I love you guys and all. But if I don’t get some sleep soon, I think the friction’s gonna set my eyeballs on fire.”

“Oh! Of course,” Taeral said. “We should let him rest, Father. And I’d like to hear more about this union of Arcadia.”

“Aye, there’s much to tell.” Daoin slung an arm around Taeral’s shoulders. “Goodnight, then, Gideon.”

“’Night,” I murmured, already closing my eyes.

That sleep was the sweetest I’d ever had.

I didn’t get up until noon, and I still managed to beat Abe to the diner for lunch.

I’d called him as soon as I woke up. He tried to interrogate me over the phone, but I insisted on talking to him in person. After I swore it wasn’t bad news this time, we agreed to meet at one o’clock at the Ninth Street Diner.

I already had coffee for both of us when he came in, spotted me, and tried not to look like he was rushing the table. He slid into the seat across from me with a frown. “Thought you said it wasn’t bad news.”

“It’s not.”

“You’re never early, unless it’s bad news.”

“Relax, Abe. I’m fine.” I grinned and pushed a menu at him. “Look all you want, but I already ordered you the usual. You know that’s what you’re getting.”

He opened his mouth, and then closed it on a smirk. “Yeah. That’s what I’m getting.”

“Me, too.” I sighed and grabbed my coffee mug in both hands. “I know you want to know what happened. And first let me say that most of it, you wouldn’t believe if I told you.”

I hated that disappointed look. “You know I’d believe you, kid,” he said.

“Yeah, you probably would.” I gave him a half-smile. “Thing is, there’s a lot of it you’d never understand. Not because you’re incapable, but the backstory on some of this stuff is insanely long and doesn’t make a lot of sense. So for that part, let’s just say it wasn’t a werewolf or a Fae or a vampire or a ghost, but it’s dead now and it won’t hurt anyone else.”

Abe gave up and chuckled. “All right. Point taken,” he said. “And you’re still alive, so that’s pretty much all that matters to me.”

“Not quite. There’s something I
do
have to tell you, and I should have told you a long time ago. More than anyone, you deserve to know.” I took in a bracing breath. “I’m ready to tell you about where I came from, and how I got all those scars,” I said.

Abe blinked rapidly and sipped at his coffee to cover it up. “About time you trusted me, kid,” he said with a smile.

“I’ve always trusted you. From day one.” I swallowed past the lump in my throat. “I just never trusted myself, until now.”

He raised an eyebrow. “So what changed?”

“Those people you called the FBI for me on, the Valentines?” I said. “They were my family.”

I’d never seen his eyes get so wide. “Those
animals
are
your
family?” he spluttered.

“I take it you read the rap sheet.” I actually laughed. “And I said they
were
my family. You just saved me from them.” I reached across the table and patted his hand. “Again.”

He shuddered. “Well, thank Jesus Howard Christ for that. I wouldn’t want you anywhere near that collection of human garbage,” he said. “Matter of fact, I’m thinking I might pull the investigation over from the Feds, just so I can shoot every one of those scumbags in the face. Twice.”

“Abe…have I told you lately that I love you?”

This time, he laughed. “You don’t have to, kid. That’s what an old man’s for.”

I couldn’t believe how much better I felt already. There was no trace of the unseen chains I’d carried around for years—the ones with the Valentines’ names stamped all over them. I felt like I was actually breathing, for the first time in my life.

The Duchenes weren’t the only ones who’d won their freedom in New Orleans.

I’d gone there to kill a god, and ended up resurrecting myself.

E
PILOGUE

Federal Bureau of Investigations Field Office – New Orleans, LA

T
hey were trying to make him sweat. It wouldn’t work. The minute the damned Feds bothered to come into this room, he’d just deny everything—and point them to Redfield and the rest of Milus Dei. Fuck their cult secrets. He was going to blow the whole thing wide open, and then go back to hunting wild beasts that couldn’t talk back.

The smug bastards thought they could buy his loyalty. Well, no amount of money was worth this hassle.

He’d been sitting in the interrogation room behind a two-way mirror, handcuffed to an iron ring set into the table, for almost two hours when the door behind him finally opened. His opening insult was on the tip of his tongue. He actually got the first syllable out before the room’s new occupant dropped a heavy folder on the table in front of him and stepped around to the side with a menacing glare.